


Three Times Alex Danvers Was A Ladykiller and One Time the Ladies Got Her Back

by orphan_account



Series: New Year's Day 2017 [11]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9212336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Written for the prompt:Prompt II: SuperMarvel AU. Set-Up: Alex may no longer be the Winter Soldier feared and deadly assassin but she’s still a lady killer. Or the five times Alex was old school charming and made the ladies swoon and the one time they got her back.





	

**First Time**  
It had taken a long time for Alex Danvers to get back to being comfortable wearing her U.S. army uniform, but she'd found that black tactical gear generally attracted the wrong sort of attention in public, and honestly, her dress greens did look pretty smart on her. Sixty years later, the crisp lines on that olive jacket did her fit, muscled body just right.

She left a tip on the counter and strode with a quick step to the front door of the diner, in time to hold it open for a pretty blonde with bouncy curls, who was on her way out. “Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling and catching Alex’s eye for just a split second longer than the brief transaction demanded. Bingo, thought Alex.

“My pleasure, Miss,” Alex replied politely, falling into step beside her.

The blonde was popping a cigarette between her ruby-painted lips, and Alex was there with her zippo before the girl had even taken her hand away to search for her own lighter. She stopped walking and allowed Alex to light her smoke, shielding the flame from the wind with her free hand. She gave Alex a sparkling smile. “Why, thank you, soldier.”

Alex went home with her phone number. Her name was Eve Tessmacher.

  
 **Second Time**  
Alex appreciated what sixty years had done to the world. It had become a more hospitable place for gals who loved other gals. It was funny, getting used to not having to use all the subtle code, all the little dances and secret languages to indicate your interest. And, thankfully, at least in New York, all the bars that were good places to meet dames who liked other dames weren’t hidden in raunchy warehouses in the seedy part of town, or in shuttered brownstones where you needed a code word to get in.

And in a place like this, Alex found herself having to sometimes turn down drinks sent by pretty girls at the other end of the bar. Especially when she wore the dress greens.

On this particular evening, at this particular club, it was Latina night. Alex didn’t know shit from shineola when it came to salsa dancing, but she could swing like nobody’s business, and with the right girl, it could be close enough.

Tonight, it turned out that the right girl was a hot, butchy little Puerto Rican girl who loved all of Alex’s moves, because Alex could pick her up, swing her around, and generally lead with the kind of authority that most girls couldn’t help but follow if they were lucky enough to find themselves in her arms. The club was packed, and they worked it so hard, that soon Alex was sweating, and she draped her jacket and button down over a chair and was dancing in a white tank top with her dog tags swinging and bouncing against her chest.

Alex went home with the girl’s phone number. Her name was Susan Vasquez.

  
 **Third Time**  
Alex didn’t technically need to take target practice, thanks to her enhanced reflexes and vision, but she liked to stay sharp. So she was typically at the range one or two days a week, squeezing off shot after flawless shot into the center of a target that was twenty five yards out. She didn’t go there to meet girls. But a tall brunette caught her eye one day, and she noticed her every other time after that.

She was clearly a civilian, and a pretty fancy one at that. Alex might have been a Brooklyn street tough in 1945 but she knew expensive when she saw it, and even when the pretty brunette was dressed in jeans and a crew neck, Alex wasn’t fooled. That purse was expensive, so were the earrings, so was that manicure. But for a fancy girl, she wasn’t a bad shot.

She sauntered over, after seeing her about a dozen times, and remarked, “You’re a pretty good shot, miss.”

The brunette smiled politely and thanked her, but Alex caught the way her glance lingered before she turned back toward the target. She also caught the charm on her necklace, which had two female symbols linked together, in silver. Well ain’t it my lucky day, she thought. It’s nice how girls today are kind enough to advertise. And thankfully, Kara had been kind enough to get her caught up.

“You know, you’re doing well, but you could get a much better grouping if you fix your stance a little,” Alex offered.

The brunette smirked. “Are you offering to show me how?”

Alex dipped her head, the picture of good manners. “Only if you’d like, Miss. I’m sure you’d be just fine without me.”

The brunette was wise to Alex’s game, but she clearly liked the way she played. So Alex found herself behind her, gently touching her arm, shoulder, hip, and chin, to make some “hands-on” adjustments to her stance. The brunette was in no hurry to have Alex stop her adjustments, but it was over soon enough. Her grouping did indeed improve on the next bunch of shots. Alex encouraged her to send the target out a little further the next time.

Alex went home with the girl’s phone number. Her name was Lena Luthor.

  
 **The One Time the Ladies Got Her Back**  
Alex came jogging up to the yellow police tape, which had blocked off an entire section of the street a block down from her apartment. After craning her deck a few minutes, she ducked under the tape and glanced around. She tapped one of the uniformed officers. “Hey officer, what happened here?”

He glanced at her and shrugged. “Accident. Pedestrian hit and run, broken glass, you know.”

“Victim still here?”

“No, ambulance just left with them a few minutes ago.”

Alex’s heart sped up. Rationally, she knew that any car that hit Kara would take more damage than Kara would, but she still worried. This neighborhood had been her home for a while now. It could be anyone. She saw a petite woman standing in the middle of the fray, closer to where a lamppost was leaning precariously over an overturned garbage can. Clearly, from her posture and the way she called out orders, and the set of her shoulders and jaw, she was the one in charge here. Alex marched up to her.

The woman gave her a once-over glance, and then settled her dark eyes on Alex’s face. “Something I can do for you, soldier?”

“It’s… Sergeant, actually,” Alex said, suddenly feeling less confident as she looked at her. She was an unusual kind of pretty. She was small, but she was clearly tough as nails. But even with that toughness, there was a warmth in the way she looked at Alex.

“OK. What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

“I just wanted to find out who the victim was.”

The woman sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t give that information out. Even to attractive Army women. No matter how good they look in their dress uniforms.”

Alex flushed, becoming indignant but also instantly developing the worst crush of her life on this sassy little cop. “Uh, look, I just…” She sputtered. She took a breath and tried again. “I’m sorry. Look, I live across the street over there.” She pointed to her building. “I just want to make sure it’s not one of my friends or neighbors. Or my sister.”

The cop softened a little, and that warmth lit her face a little more. She gave Alex a name. Alex didn’t know them. Relief crossed her face. Relief and something else, because she was staring at a girl that she wanted to date worse than she’d ever wanted to date any girl ever.

“Thank you, officer…?”

“Sawyer,” the cop replied. “Detective… Sawyer.”

Where was all her smooth talk now? It had deserted her. She scrambled. “Detective, how… how can I thank you?”

Detective Sawyer was grinning now. She gave her another once-over, this time a little more slowly than before. She took out her card and pressed it into Alex’s palm. “I have to get back to work now, Sergeant. But.. If you think of a way,” she said, and Alex heart did a somersault, “give me a call.”


End file.
